Suitor
by redcandle
Summary: Victarion arrives in Meereen and realizes he has no chance of marrying Dany - until she surprises him.


Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and elements from A Song of Ice and Fire belong to George R.R. Martin. No copyright infringement is intended.

Victarion hadn't expected this. All the long voyage from the Iron Isles to Slaver's Bay, he'd fantasized about Euron's impotent wrath when he learned Victarion had taken the last Targaryen for his own bride. He'd given no thought to how he would win her, vaguely assuming that he could seize her as a man would seize a salt wife. But that wasn't possible. Daenerys Targaryen was surrounded by Unsullied, and eunuchs though they were, the Unsullied were known as fierce, fearless fighters.

He was not the only man come to seek her hand either. Suitors from every corner of the world paid court to her. They brought her gifts and pledged their love in poems and songs. Victarion knew he had no tongue for wooing women, and he had brought no gifts to give her.

"Victarion of House Greyjoy of Westeros," cried the eunuch whose job it was to introduce petitioners to the woman already styling herself Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, "Lord Captain of the Iron Fleet."

Victarion bowed stiffly to Daenerys, who was watching him curiously. He had never envied Balon his assurance or Euron his smooth tongue so much before. "I've come to ask for your hand," he said bluntly. Someone in the crowd tittered. Victarion unslung his axe and went to one knee. "I offer my axe."

"I am honored that one such as yourself wishes to wed me," Daenerys said pleasantly - hollowly. He knew she made the same response to each suitor. "I will consider your proposal."

He went away angry and frustrated. Unless she left her pyramid and he managed to abduct her from her guards and get her onto his ship, he would not have Daenerys Targaryen for his wife. _Euron will not have her either. Not unless he comes here himself and charms her._ The thought was no consolation. It sparked a new fear: that Euron would come and succeed where Victarion had failed.

The sight of the dusky woman waiting in his cabin did not improve his mood. He felt she was spying on him, though they were too far away for her to send messages to the Crow's Eye. He decided to rid himself of his brother's unwanted gift. "Go," he told her. "Do as you will with yourself."

He was annoyed when a knock came on his door not ten minutes later. "What?" he roared, thinking perhaps the dusky woman had not understood him.

It was his first mate. "There is a messenger for you. From the dragon queen."

Victarion hurried up to the deck. The messenger was dressed finely but he bore no badges to betray who he served. "The Queen wishes to meet with you in private. You will present yourself tonight."

When Victarion presented himself at the appointed time a Meereenese servant led him to a small room somewhere in the middle of the Great Pyramid and from there a Dothraki girl led him up further still, though not by the route he had used that morning. He didn't know what to make of it. _I am made for honest battle, not intrigue, not like Euron._

The girl led him to a chamber at the very top of the pyramid, where he found Daenerys waiting. With no bizarre foreigners or competing suitors to distract him, he looked at her properly for the first time. She was as beautiful as they said, though small. She stood no higher than his chest and his hands could easily encircle her. She was staring at him frankly. Examining him, he felt.

"I've been offered hearts and bodies, and honor and devotion, to say nothing of fabulous jewels and distant lands. I have not been offered an axe before," she said, smiling.

Victarion wondered if this meant she was considering him as a suitor after all. "I would slay your enemies and fight until the Iron Throne was yours."

"My sun-and-stars might have said the same." His confusion must have shown, for she explained herself. "My husband Drogo. You remind me of him."

He had heard that she was the widow of some Dothraki warlord. He didn't mind being compared to her dead husband. From all he had heard, the Dothraki were as to land what the Ironborn were to sea. "I would be a good and devoted husband." He added, "As long as you were a good and devoted wife."

She laughed at that. "Some of my suitors would not care if they ever saw me again once we were wed."

"I would care."

She laughed again. "I would hope so. Ser Barristan has told me about you but I would hear your own words. Dine with me."

Victarion took the chair she indicated at a small table set with a feast. He wracked his brain for what to say. _Pretend she is Asha wanting to trade stories._ Victarion began to speak.


End file.
